Inspired by a Tattoo
by shadow5437
Summary: Little!America's prank goes wrong when England makes a klutzy move.


America was in no mood to sleep. As much as he wanted England to read to him, he couldn't He had to pretend that he had fallen asleep. Taking out some crayons and a pad of paper, America sketched his little plan, giggling evilly. England was in for a surprise, but he had to wait for the nation to sleep, and that would take forever.

Meanwhile, England was sitting on his chair, reading a book. He was lucky today, not a lot of papers to sign, and he got the night off. Sipping his tea, England leaned back and sighed blissfully. America had claimed that he was tired, and actually went to bed early! Nothing could make this night worse. He was so happy, and tears sprang to his eyes. These aren't tears of joy, England's tea had spilled all over the front of his shirt! He grabbed a pillow, stuffed his face in it and screamed, the pillow as a mute. He couldn't wake his brother! England sprang up afterwards and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Bloody...bloody bloody bloody..." England cursed. His hot tea really burned him! He got some ice and wrapped it in a towel. Slumping back on his chair, England placed the ice pack on his bare chest. As cold as it was, it was so...so soothing. England let out a sigh as his eyelids began to droop...

Slowly, as slowly as he could, America walked down the stairs. England never came upstairs, and according to his clock, the big hand was on the twelve. America thought England would have been up there by now. Maybe England fell asleep on the chair? America wanted to find out. His little head peered around the corner and he giggled softly at the sight.

There was England, passed out of the chair. His shirt was in a heap next to him, and a teacup lay silently on the floor. A book was balanced on the arm of the chair, and a towel with melted iced covered up England's lap. England's chest was still red from the burn, and wet from the ice. America wanted to laugh. It was just as France described him when he would come home from..what were they? A bar? Maybe. He looked like a passed out drunk! America knew if he laughed, it would wake him. Instead, he clutched his marker and walked closer to England.

America's plan was simple. He was to give England more tattoos, like the one on his shoulder. He could draw whatever he wanted! America knew he had to be careful, for England could awake any moment. America originally wanted to color on England's back, but his belly would have to do. Uncapping his black marker, he got to work. He started slowly scribbling on England's chest, but as the marker brushed against England's burn, England let out an ear splitting yelp. America screamed and ran into the kitchen. England scared the living daylights out of him! England rubbed his chest, and realized that he had fallen asleep.

"America? You down here?" England called quietly. He thought he heard a whimper from the kitchen and he slowly opened the door. America covered his eyes. He was about to be discovered. England flicked on the lights, and found America shivering underneath the table.

"America, what on earth are you doing?" England yawned. America looked at England.

"I'm sorry, England! I just wanted to pull a joke on you, but you got hurt!" America wailed. England looked confused. He looked at his chest, and saw scribbles! Surprised, he drew his head back and hit his head. America laughed, but stopped when England looked angry.

"Did you scribble on me?!" England demanded. America, with returning fear, nodded.

"I thought you would want more tattoos, so I drawed more!" America sobbed. England, ignoring his brother's improper English, grabbed the boy's shoulder.

"I bet I would have noticed this anyways..." England muttered. America, who stopped being afraid, turned to meet his brother.

"Why did you scream, England?" America asked. England pointed at his chest.

"You see, I was drinking some tea, and I spilled it all over me. I must have fallen asleep when I put ice on my burn." England answered. America giggled.

"You're a klutz!" He cried. England laughed and scooped up his brother.

"Why don't we get you to bed?" England asked softly. America nodded and snuggled into his brother's shoulder. His skin was soft, and America immediately felt sleepy. England sighed and cradled his brother.

"You're so silly, America." He whispered. England sat on the sofa and rocked his brother in his arms. Humming a lullaby in America's ear, it eventually lulled England to sleep. Upon humming the last note, he yawned.

"Good night, lad. Sweet dreams."

~End


End file.
